Practical Magic
by Arlia'Devi
Summary: Three practical uses for the Vulcan mind meld, as discovered and analysed by Nyota Uhura. Purely for scientific reasons, of course.
1. I: The Meld

**Practical Magic**

By Arlia'Devi

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world. All rights go to Gene Roddenberry and under the ownership of CBS and Paramount, and any other associates. I make no money from this story.

One: The Meld

_"Vulcan mind melds: utter foolishness. Anybody with an ounce of sense wouldn't share his brain with someone else; would you? I certainly wouldn't."_

- The Doctor, Star Trek: Voyager

They have been dating for approximately two years and one month when he asks, over dinner, "Would you like to perform a bonding ceremony?"

She almost chokes on a stick of cooked zucchini.

"What?" she asks.

"A bonding ceremony. Would you like to perform one, with myself?"

She puts down her fork. "Have you been thinking about this a lot?"

"Yes."

"And?" she asks.

"I have decided I would like to do perform one with you, Nyota. You are opposed to it?"

She shakes her head and takes a drink of water.

"Well… not really. But isn't it… considerably permanent?"

Spock frowns and the tiniest corner of his mouth flicks up a little. "You question my feelings for you, Nyota?"

This isn't going well, she realises.

"I… it's just _unexpected_."

"I understand."

"I'm not saying 'no'."

"That is true. You informed me it was unexpected," he replies. "I was under the assumption that these things were best presented as a surprise."

Uhura frowns for a moment. Surprise?

"What do you mean, a surprise?" she asks. "Are you asking me to marry you, Spock?"

He nods. "In the Vulcan sense, yes."

She looks at him over the table. He is wearing a simple blue jumper and black slacks. She is wearing a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair is down around her shoulders and his gaze is alluring across the table.

"What about next year?" she asks. It's October and the reality of the December graduation and the January assignments to space stations is looming in front of her. "I want to apply for the Enterprise."

"You would be a strong candidate."

"And what will you do?" she asks. "You would wait for me? You would be fine with me being off shore for months at a time?"

He hesitates for a moment.

"I will miss your company, Nyota, that is a truth I have come to accept," he replies.

"What if we only see each other once a year? What if you're on a different ship?" she asks. "There are many variables to consider, Spock."

"The bonding will not last more than three years if we do not complete the final ceremony - indeed, consider it closer to a human engagement in not getting married immediately but expressing the desire to be wed," he replies. "I appreciate your desire to analyse how logical the situation may be… but I have found recently, in occurrence with our relationship, I am strangely discontented in analysing what is considered logical and what would be foolish."

She watches her lover across the table. "Oh, that has to be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me."

"It did not intend to be so," he admits.

She gets up from her chair and kneels down beside Spock. Gently she rubs her cheek against his hand, cupping it to the side of her face.

"I want to," she replies. "But I am scared."

"There is nothing to be afraid of," he informs her. "My mother and father have been bonded for decades. There is a strange compatibility between Vulcans and Humans. Come. Leave the dishes. The bots will get them."

Uhura follows Spock from the dining room into the small living and reading room. It is multipurpose and everything faces out onto the large screen doors that bathes the room in starlight. Spock does not own a television, does not indulge in cultural materials such as television, films and rarely listens to Earth music - there are only a few small jazz albums on his COMM, and the rest are Vulcan recordings of choirs and lectures he enjoys listening to.

Uhura cuddles up on the lounge, presses her body against Spock's as he reclines into the love seat. He studied the sky from his seat as he did every night, Uhura, ran her hand down her lover's arm.

"Vulcan is bright tonight," she hums. "I can see it clearly. Do you miss it?"

Spock moves a little. Uhura can't be sure if it is because he is feeling a little awkward about being asked such an emotive question, or because he is simply trying to get comfortable.

"Occasionally."

"I am glad you chose Starfleet," Uhura admits.

"As am I."

She looks at him, the way his hair catches the starlight and shimmers with a silver sheen. She had once been too swept away in her emotions, told him once how wonderful he looked in the moonlight with not a stitch of clothing over his body. Kissing down his chest, he had remarked to remind her that moonlight, or starlight of any kind did not exist and the light from stars seen from Earth did nothing to aid her vision at the current moment.

She had bit his hipbone in an excuse.

"I will do it. Marry you," she says.

"After you have graduated, if you still feel the same, I would be glad to be your husband, Nyota," he says gently and she reaches up a little to kiss him. "We do not have to bond tonight."

"I want to."

"There is no need to rush. It can be performed at any time."

"Then now… here…," she whispers, kissing his neck. "I want you."

"Very well."

He gathers her up but she protests.

"Here," she says. "Underneath the stars."

He does as she wishes and Nyota brings her hands to the hem of her shirt before pulling it over her head.

"Do we get naked?"

"It is preferable but not necessary," he replies stoically but his eyes are already roaming and dark.

Nyota runs her hand over the maroon scalloped lace bra that was definitely not Starfleet regulation. Spock hooks one arm around her small waist and hooks her into his lap. Uhura parts her legs, letting one rest on either side of his hips. He kisses her passionately and she eagerly reciprocates, breaking only to pull Spock's jumper and shirt over his head.

She kisses him passionately, feels one hand slip down her lower back to grab at her left ass cheek and press her hips against his and the other into her hair and bunching the now loose ebony locks into his fingers at the base of her skull.

The fingers around her hips move to undo the button of her jeans and slip into her panties. She gasps as two probing fingers pinch at her clit, rolling it against her pelvis bone and pressing just where he knows she'll fall into a mewling mess of a woman. His fingers travel back further pushing the fabric of the panties aside to dip into her entrance and wipe at the wetness there.

"Do we have sex first…. Or after?" she asks against his lips.

"A-after," he pants.

She pulls back a little and they are both panting hard.

"We better slow down then, ah-," Uhura twitches as he gives her clit one last harsh twist before he removes his fingers from her panties. Without breaking eye contact, he brings the glistening digits to his mouth and begins sucking them off one-by-one. She joins him, mashing her lips and tongue together, relishing in the taboo of tasting herself on his tongue - truly however, she doesn't taste anything other than Spock's mouth but it turns him on greatly, signified by the erection he presses into her inner thigh.

"It is simply a mind-meld," he says gently. "With some practice, you will come to be able to use it quite well. In some cases, it has been known to be a form of contact between bonding mates across the galaxy."

He touches her cheek then and his fingers move up to touch her temple.

"I will always feel you. You shall always feel me, wherever I will be. Reach out for me, and I will be there for you always, Nyota. So long as this bond remains, I shall never leave you."

Nyota holds onto his wrist and kisses the inside of his hand.

"I will never want to leave you, Spock."

"Very well, I will begin."

Uhura closes her eyes and braces herself.

"Relax," he orders her after a moment.

Uhura laughs and breaths out.

"Sorry. Just nervous."

"Do not be."

She feels something probe into her mind. The presence grows slowly and stronger as seconds pass. Uhura visibly shivers at one point, feeling something like a worm crawl deep into her mind. And then she feels something else, an emotion not at all her own. Joy and love. She opens her eyes, touches Spock's hand and smiles. His face, though emotionless, seems much more readable and the feelings coursing through her body intermingle with what he casts into the metaphysical space between them.

"So I can feel what you're feeling?" Uhura asks.

_And with more practice, we could communicate nonverbally, _he adds.

"That's bizarre," Uhura murmurs. "What if I'm thinking about things I don't want you to know?"

"Respectfully, I will not be listening in. You will feel if I am."

Uhura laughs a little.

"So… by Vulcan standards, we are engaged?"

He clears his throat to correct her. "By the human translation of Vulcan standards, I suppose. It was the next logical step in our relationship. I am glad you have accepted."

Uhura presses her lips against Spock's collarbone. Through the bond he feels how weary she is and he hesitates to continue.

"If you wish to rest, you may," he informs her.

She closes her eyes. Her libido has been placated for the moment and she sighs against his skin, always a little hotter than her own.

"Just for a moment… I promise…," she mutters and then promptly falls asleep.

When she wakes up, Spock is slipping into the bed next to her. They are both naked and her mind is trying to fight off the drowsiness of waking up too early. She smiles at him, kisses him on the lips and touches his cheek gently. Through the bond she can feel his want, his desire for her and she smiles but she wonders if she really has the stamina tonight.

"The bond is not complete until copulation occurs," Spock informs her. "But if you feel too tired, we may delay it for another occasion."

She kisses him gently.

"It's… fine," she sighs against his lips. He pulls her against him slowly. "I'm not tired… I just…," his tongue runs across her bottom lip. "Have… to get back in the mood. Would… you be as so kind as too… ohhh," Uhura groans as Spock makes his way down to her breast. His fingers probe between her legs and she grows wetter under his small circular rubbing.

Spock reaches for the lube on the bedside table and coats his palm liberally, running it up and down himself as Uhura rolls onto her back and kisses him slowly.

"Slow down, baby, don't rush," she coos. Spock pants and nods his head.

"Apologies…," he murmurs. "Is more foreplay appropriate? Do you still not feel the mood?"

"No…," she laughs and can feel confusion and awkwardness that is not her own nibbling at her consciousness. "It's fine. Make love to me."

He continues with his ministrations for a moment and Uhura relishes the feel of his hands against his skin, his tongue and his lips. He is always emotionally reserved and their intimate times are rarely any different. Suddenly, she formulates an idea.

"Spock, honey," she hums. He looks up, his dark eyes smouldering but unreadable. Gently she eases him off and onto his back. "Look at me baby…" she takes one hand, and leaning over his body, presses his palm to the side of her hip. She runs his hand around her curve of her left ass cheek, up her hip, dancing over her ribs to cup her breast gently.

"You don't have to be… so guarded," she kisses him softly, kisses his hand, his fingertips. "When we make love. Feel more. Be free more."

"As you wish," he replies with a small nod and moves up to kiss her, rolling her breast in his hand. Quickly, he turns them over again and his mouth moves from hers and down her neck, down to her stomach, flicking through her bellybutton and down through the small patch of hair she keeps on her pubis.

"Spock," she gasps, fighting the urge to grab handfuls of hair in the chance she may hurt one of his sensitive ears. "We have had intercourse fourteen-point-three times, so I understand if you are not interacted in this particular sex act.."

"Spock," she sighs. "Don't speak, just feel. Just do. Love me."

He resolves his answer.

'Very well."

His tongue swirls around her clit almost instantly. She arches up into his mouth and moans his name in a very pleasing manner that is sent straight to his groin. He slips a finger into her, padding and brushing against the top of her vaginal wall. He applied a little pressure just before the bladder, rubbing what Uhura had once called the g-spot but he had not ever found any scientific evidence to support such an anomaly. Still, her physical reaction was most gratifying.

"That's enough. Please. I need you, Spock," she gasps and he can tell she is very close to the edge. He is in half a mind to finish her with his mouth, but there is a forty-five-point-three percent chance she will be too tired to complete the copulation if he continues and this is not what he wants.

He enters her slowly and she arches up into him. His hand snakes around her hip and another touches her face, caresses her, melds with her and instantly her own pleasure is made better by his own. Uhura convulses in his arms, grabs at his shoulders, grabs into his hair and does anything she can to have him closer.

"Oh… oh Spock, fuck," she squeals, her legs hooking over his hips and digging into his sides.

_It is fine, we are one. _

The voice echoes through her head and she knows at once it is true. There is no way of knowing where her pleasure begins and his ends. Their bodies and their minds had melded so perfectly it was as cliché as finding another half. She would never tell such a thing to Spock, he did not believe in such romantic notions and beliefs - they were foolish and illogical. But she wondered, if any time, she could admit they belonged together it would be this moment. This perfect moment.

She came with his name tumbling from her lips. No moment was so perfect, however, and he did not come with her - instead halting his movements inside her and allowing her time to recover. Vulcan stamina was just so Uhura had gone to bed and had risen for class without sleep on a few occasions. She had tried her best not to fall asleep in his classes, and when she did he had only caught her once.

"You will get to sleep tonight," he murmured into her neck. "Did I not promise the next time I caught you sleeping it would be a public humiliation? I will train the projector onto you."

"Mean," she hums. "Since it is your fault I fell asleep that one time!"

"You indicate there are more that I have not been aware of," he chuckles. Spock begins moving again in slow, languid strokes.

"Maybe…. A few." Uhura shivers. In the haze of her last orgasm, the small friction Spock gives her is enough to prime her again. She moans and shivers, pulling her lover closer and whimpering as his pace picked up.

Spock shudders as his own peak approached rapidly. He quickly snuck a hand between their bodies to pinch and roll at his lover's clit, thrust slightly upward to brush against that sweet spot that made her back arch and her fingers leave small crescent marks in his shoulders for the next day and a half. Uhura comes with a small silent scream and then with a throaty moan. Her tightness milks him, sends him falling over the edge with a pant and he clings to his lover's small frame.

"Nyota…," he pants.

She smiles up at him and kisses his lips soflty.

_I love you, _she coos through the bond. She senses his confusion and so she sends her emotions through the connection, what it feels like to be in love, to wish to see him and the days they walk around the park, the day he had fed the ducks, the nights they lie in the living room looking at the stars, dancing to light jazz, and she is rewarded when he sends back his mirroring emotion. It's how she looks brushing her teeth in the morning, the time she had run past him on the track before they had known each other, when she smiles at him in the corridor of the Academy, the first lunch date and how she stumbled over pronunciation of expert Vulcan.

It is not a verbal I love you, but in Vulcan culture, it is as close as he will possibly ever get.

"I love you," he says suddenly.

Uhura frowns. "Honey… you don't have to-."

"It pleases you for me to admit my feelings verbally," he insists. "This is not the Vulcan way, but I am not entirely Vulcan. My humanity was often seen as an excuse or a disability, but in loving a human, it is an advantage in deciphering what makes you happy, Nyota. Thusly, I love you."

She smiles at him, nuzzles his nose and sighs.

"I love you too, Spock," she sighs. "Thank you for understanding."

"I must extend the same gratitude to you."

She cups his cheek, kisses him and falls back into the pillows, exhausted. "I need to sleep now."

"Indeed, I feel considerably weary," he agrees. Spock rolls to his side, pressing a kiss to Uhura's shoulder.

"That was amazing. Will it always be like that?" she asks.

"While we are bonded and open up a mind meld, indeed," he informs her. Uhura giggles. "There seem to be many practical uses to this telepathy thing." Spock gives her a strange look that Uhura translates a little as worry and nervousness.

"Don't worry, I won't sabotage you," she hums and laughs, falling back into the pillows. _But I do have every intention to discover the melds usefulness. Usefulness number one: fucking awesome sex._

* * *

><p>This is my first Star Trek fanfiction - I am equally excited and nervous to be writing for this fandom and this couple. I'll be sticking to the AU 2009 timeline, thus this is posted in the film category and not the TV series category. I hope I have captured characters adequately and the ideas of Vulcan culture. This will, as the summary said, be a five-part series set in Academy days. They will mainly be PWPs, I believe - at least this chapter and the next.<p>

I really appreciate reviews and would love to hear if you guys would like to read more. Also, to those of you waiting for updates on my other fanfictions (namely Path of Water), they're coming! I swear I'm working on them as quickly as I can, but the writing process has been a little slower than usual.

Once again, thank you for reading! I hope you stick around for more.

~ Arlia'Devi


	2. II: The Lecture

**Practical Magic**

By Arlia'Devi

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world. All rights go to Gene Roddenberry and under the ownership of CBS and Paramount, and any other associates. I make no money from this story.

Two: The Lecture

Uhura has never tried communicating through the meld, which had been established only eight days prior. In fact, apart from experiencing emotions during sex, her life had not been majorly impacted by her sudden telepathic abilities. She did not have much practice in contacting him for any particular need and still preferred using her COMM or communicating verbally.

However, in a room of approximately eighty other students, the particular matter that is distressing her cannot be brought up verbally. Shifting in her seat, she looks at the person sitting next to her - a male, bored, making small drawings in his notebook. On her other side is a Trill woman, who is writing down notes dutifully. Down on the floor of the lecture hall, her lover, Spock, is giving a lecture - the final lecture of the Tuesday afternoon and after said lecture, she has another appointment with her tutor, one which involves dinner in his quarters and studying exactly how the Vulcan tongue moves to pronounce those tricky rolls and clicks.

She takes a short breath and begins to focus. She does not recall what he is lecturing about now, it does not matter, since she has been completely unfocused for the last two classes - Advanced Trill dialects and now, Vulcan in Academics. She shifts uncomfortably and begins to reach out to his consciousness. It's out there and all she has to do is tap just on the barrier of her own-

_Cadet Uhura._

She straightens up and looks around. She realises Spock is still in the middle of a sentence, looking at the large lecture screen but his voice echoes through his mind so clearly it is like he is speaking out loud, and beside her.

_You can hear me?_

_Clearly._

Expectedly, he does not miss a beat in his presentation.

_I need you to do something for me, _she says.

_You should be paying attention._

_I can't,_ she responds to his slight condemning. _Not since lunch, I can't… I can't pay attention to anything._

Uhura wonders if she can send images through the bond. She thinks back to lunch, back to their office romp where she is on her stomach, grabbing onto the sides of his desk and screaming into the wood. Her pussy is throbbing and abused, red, wet and dripping down her legs. Her panties are down her ankles, her skirt is flipped up and he is behind her, grabbing her hips so hard she can still feel his fingers there even now.

"Mr. Spock, uhhh Commander, sir, that's the last slide," someone pipes up from the front row. Uhura looks up to see that he has accidentally travelled back one slide on the projector, instead of moving forward.

_Completely inappropriate, Cadet._

His annoyance slips through the mental bond to chide her. She giggles and shimmies down in her seat.

_Do as you are told, Commander. _

He is still speaking. She does not know of what anymore. Perhaps he does not know either.

_Very well. What are your requirements?_

_Put your hand in your pocket._

_Specify._

_Your left pant pocket._

She watches as he causally slips his hand into his pocket - the left one.

_There is nothing there - I fail to understand the purpose of this game. _

She bites her tongue.

_The right one. Try the right. _

_I shall look foolish. No._

_I feel foolish!_

His interest piqued, Spock speaks for exactly four minutes and three more seconds before he reaches into his right pant pocket.

_What have you found? _ She asks him over the meld.

He is hesitant.

_Your panties, Cadet._

She sends him another mental image - this one of her with her legs crossed, hot humiliation on her mind. Her of pulling down her hem as she walks, her legs pressing together intimately, her wetness brushing against her thighs.

_Once again, completely inappropriate, Cadet. _

_What is inappropriate, Commader,_ she says his title with such ice, _is that this is the second time this has happened - and I'm quite sure Cadet Kirk three seats across from me has a considerable interest in my uncomfortable shifting. Do you know the horror I experienced in Advanced Trill?_

The fabric of the lecture seats in old building 9 is not at all forgiving. She believes to have a rash, for which she may just have to go and see McCoy - discrete, professional McCoy, who strangely enough, is roomies with the insufferable Kirk.

_I do not wish to experience, it thank you. Did you not go back to your quarters and retrieve a fresh pair?_

_I did not expect to lose the pair I had been wearing!_

She sees his jaw tighten from her seat in the theatre.

_Very well, Cadet Uhura, you may retrieve them. I will be in my office after the lecture. _

What? Is he propositioning her? How DARE he even think of playing such a game with her! _Why you!_

"Cadet Uhura," he calls out and Uhura sits up rigidly. "Would you come here for a moment. I have a task I wish for you to complete."

Kirk looks to Uhura.

"Ooooh," he sing-songs childishly. "You're in trouble."

"Shut it, Kirk," she hisses as she steps past him, pulling down the hem of her dress as she slips to the steps.

_You had better sleep with one eye open, Vulcan, I am going to get you for this! _She screams over the meld.

He replies back, almost - no, definitely, smugly, _Vulcans do not require sleep for up to fourteen Earth days at a time, Cadet._

_I can't believe you're playing this game right now. YOU'RE the one who stole my panties. _

_I play no games._

"Yes," it's almost a seething answer as she goes down to the bottom of the lecture theatre. She can't stand to look at him, but at the same time she can't back down - and so she's gazing into those emotionless brown eyes even though through the bond he is practically vibrating with smugness.

"The test results from the last fortnight are on my desk in my office - would you retrieve them, Cadet?"

"Of course, Commander," she replies.

He slips his hand into his pocket and retrieves the small key card that grants other users to his office suite. Uhura takes the card, not wavering from his eyes for a moment and with the sleight of hand, she suddenly feels something being slipped, completely inconspicuously, into her left hand. It's her panties - the red lace ones that were definitely not Starfleet commission.

"I won't be a moment, Commander Spock," she says before turning quickly and leaving the lecture theatre.

Quickly she runs into the nearest women's bathroom, locks herself in a stall and wonders how so many women can go without underwear each day - it feels not only comfortable, but supporting and she sighs as she shimmies the underwear up her hips.

_Thank you! _She sighs over the meld.

_You are most welcome, Cadet._

She washes her hands and goes to leave the bathroom, feeling much more contented and comfortable. She primps her hair, runs her fingers through her ponytail and sighs. She reconsiders how the rest of the night is going to play out - previously, she had considered not giving anything ever and even cancelling their night together, but now, she smiled, his deception, their game, it had been interesting. His arousal as he discovered her panties in his pocket had been interesting. She had to consider the possibility of how fun a role reversal would be - what of interest could she take of his? The thought crosses her mind as she exits the toilet. She is visibly glowing and cannot wait to take this matter into more private settings.

She is about to enter the lecture theatre again, contented to actually pay attention for the last thirty minutes when his voice rings through her head.

_Have you retrieved the papers? _

Oops, she thinks sheepishly and turns on her heels to retrieve the forgotten documents. Practical use for Vulcan mind-meld two: the transferral of highly important information between concerning parties.

She thinks she feels something like a sigh against her mind as she happily mulls over this revelation.

* * *

><p>Thank you for all the support for this story! It's my first SpockUhura fanfiction and of course, my first Star Trek fanfiction - though I have been an avid reader of many for around a month know, and thought I might just give writing one a go. Thank you for all your kind reviews and I really hoped you liked part 2. Stay tuned for the next chapter in around a week's time! Please take the time to leave a small review before you go, they help me out a lot and only take 10 seconds of your time.

~ Arlia'Devi.


	3. III: The Distance

**Practical Magic**

By Arlia'Devi

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world. All rights go to Gene Roddenberry and under the ownership of CBS and Paramount, and any other associates. I make no money from this story.

Three: The Distance

When the first semester finishes, which is his sixth as a teacher and her fifth as a student, and their first semester together, she goes back to Kenya to visit her father and mother, sister and aging grandmother. He informs her he is going off-world for the break. She does not ask to come, does not expect him to ask her to join him and they are both thankful for their separate plans.

"I am going to visit my family - I haven't seen them for almost a year," she says over dinner, a week before end of term.

"I have not visited my parents for two years. My father was in San Francisco briefly two months ago. My mother did not join him."

"I hope you enjoy your time with them," she smiles.

"As do I hope for you, Nyota." They finish eating. She puts on a film. He reads a book and quirks an eyebrow when she laughs. It's almost like he rolls his eyes a little - if he was capable of such an expression that says something like, "humans!" and goes back into his book.

They go to bed, lie in each other's arms, make love gently. She falls asleep first and he drifts between consciousness's for around four hours before he gets up to begin his morning routine - shower, meditation, breakfast. She will rise between 0601, when her alarm goes off - illogical to wake exactly to the hour, which he has always wondered upon but never questions, and 0630, when she will be bordering on being late for her classes.

He showers, dresses, meditates. He makes her breakfast when she rises, still drowsy and falling asleep over the morning coffee. Every morning is the same, except for Sunday morning when she wakes up slowly and he stays in bed and meditates in the afternoon sun instead.

"See you later," she hums, kissing him. "I'll miss you. Love you."

He kisses her back and smooths his thumb under her jaw. "Study hard. I will look forward to our dinner tonight."

She smiles, picks up her back, swings it over her shoulders and leaves with a wink.

* * *

><p>Nyota wakes up at 0815 to the sound of Applejack being let inside for the morning. She rolls over and hums as the little dog jumps onto her bed and nuzzles her throat.<p>

"Stop… please," she sighs and pushes the dog away. Her sister comes to retrieve him and says they're going to the beach today and for Nyota to get her ass out of bed. The day is hot and dry and everything is effortless.

She reads Trill by the beach and warms her legs from underneath the umbrella. Applejack is running along the coast with her sister and her sister's long-term boyfriend. A message comes through on her COMM. It's from Spock. A picture of the Vulcan landscape looking outside what she can only infer is his mother's and father's living room. It's red, stark and looks very hot - hot enough for him to be comfortable, but it looks beautiful.

She adjusts the COMM and takes a picture of her legs, long and lean and dark, with her toes in the sand and the shore and sea stretching for miles across the horizion. She presses send and the image zips away as Applejack and her sister, Adia, and her boyfriend, Nate, settle down on the towels beside her.

"So, Ny," hums Adia. "What is new, you know, in your life?"

"Going off-world for an internship in September until November," she says, marking her passage in her book and closing it. "So that's cool, I suppose. Actually, I am very excited. What about you?"

Adia visibly shivers when she smiles. "Well," she says with a spark of electricity. "Actually, this is what I wanted to talk to you about. You see… well, Nate and me are getting married!" She squeals and Applejack barks and Nyota realises she's half forcing her smile.

"That is so exciting!" she says, and she does mean it. "When are you planning?"

"Well… January!" she said. "After your internship. Well… will you be a bridesmaid? Chloe and Goma are my others, oh Ny, will you be my third bridesmaid?" she asks, taking Nyota's hand. "Please?"

"Of course I will," she responds. "I'm so happy for you."

Happy for her little sister of only twenty-three, the hairdresser in an upper Mombassa suburb with the nice penthouse and a long-term boyfriend of four years, happy for the life she and her share which are so, so different.

"I might be going into space by January," she says.

"Oh really?" Adia pouts a little. "What is more important really?" she says with a small laugh. "Come on, your baby sister's wedding or space? Space is always gonna be there! I'm only gonna get married once!"

_Space_ she thinks, and feels a little guilty for it. _Space._

* * *

><p>Spock receives the picture of Cadet Uhura's long shapely legs before he is considering meditating with his father instead of accompanying his mother to the markets. As soon as he opens the file, he cannot at all comprehend having a peaceful meditation and so walks with his mother to the markets near their village he often frequented as a child.<p>

"You are happy on Earth?" she asks on the dry, hot walk towards the town. Spock's mother is not getting younger - she possesses a few more grey hairs, she's a little thinner and it very much occurs to him how the harsh conditions on Vulcan will be hard for an aging woman.

"Happy is a vague statement," replies Spock. His mother smiles at him and squeezes his arm. "I am content."

"Happy then," she laughs. "As happy as you will allow yourself to be."

"There are many positive aspects to choosing a life on Earth," explained Spock. "It was a logical choice."

His mother smiles and moves her hessian bag from one arm to another.

"And any significant others?" she asks. He hesitates. "Spock?"

"Indeed."

"Really?" she asks. "How long?"

"Eight months and fourteen days," he replies. "She is very well educated, logical and very reasonable. She speaks nine languages and a member of Starfleet. Terran."

"And beautiful?" his mother prods.

"Aesthetically pleasing," he nods.

"And her name?"

"Uhura. Nyota Uhura. I will show you a photo she sent me if you agree not to inform father," he replies. "He is planning a trip to Earth in the coming months, and I do not wish to impose a pressure upon her of making an impression."

"Will I get to meet her, what if I decide to come?" she asks with a very large grin. "I can't believe this, Spock. I'm so happy for you."

"Happy is a vague term," he repeats. "And I am regretting my decision to confide in you, mother. Like Nyota, you seem to considerably indulge in emotional talk known as gossiping."

"I am not gossiping," she replies, laughing. "I am teasing you, my son."

She touches him. He allows it. It is an exception he allows. She enjoys touching him, like Nyota does to establish an intimate contact he doesn't seem to understand, and it is arrogant and rude to not allow something that he does not understand, so though he doesn't particularly enjoy the closeness, he has learnt to allow it.

* * *

><p>She is about to go to bed. It's half way through the summer break and she is missing him terribly. She calls him every other day, he speaks to her in a myraid of languages across the tinny connection. She tells him about the Trill paper she's finished reading and he sends her some Vulcan material he has found in his father's library that may be of interest to her. He informs her he has told his mother about her, which she is overjoyed about but tries to "keep her cool" as she says. Uhura informs Spock of her younger sister's wedding, about her internship off-world, of how different their lives are.<p>

"I miss you," she admits one night, where it is midday on Vulcan. She is drowsy and trying to keep her voice down for her sleeping siblings.

He looks around the room, hesitates, and then, "I feel similar."

"Really?"

"Indeed," he replies.

"What's it like on Vulcan?"

"The temperature is ten percent higher on average than Earth," he replies. "Such information should be common knowledge to you, Nyota."

She sighs against the COMM and yawns. "I know... I just miss you."

"You are being considerably incoherent. You should sleep."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Nyota."

"Goodnight Spock," she sighs, rubs her face into her pillow. The disconnection sound rakes against her ears and she sighs, rolling onto her stomach. She thinks about him, thinks about how long it has been since she's made love to him (two months, four days), how long it will be until they touch again (two weeks, five days) and wonders if somehow this link between them - as flimsy as it had become with neglect of their physical relationship - can withstand galaxies and asteroid belts and black holes. She reaches out to him. He brushes back delicately.

Practical use for the meld three, she thinks, intimacy over long distances.

_Indeed_, he feels her over her mind again almost lovingly, if an individual could characterise such a mental sensation as lovingly. _Indeed._


End file.
